Photos by National Geographic photographer and Norwell resident Cary Wolinsky reveal the culture of textiles

Jody Feinberg

Friday

Nov 27, 2009 at 12:01 AMNov 27, 2009 at 11:28 AM

“Textiles – just the word itself would put me to sleep,” Wolinsky said. “But I realized that cloth has the power to transform our vision of ourselves and each other. There is a natural human tendency to create beauty, and a single piece of clothing can be transformative.”

When Cary Wolinsky traveled the world as a National Geographic photographer, he often spent hours, even days, to prepare. Before he could shoot, he had to follow the customs of his subjects, learning the hard way when he did not.

“I didn’t think I could sleep in a hammock, so I lay down on the floor, which was sand,” Wolinsky told a gathering at the South Shore Art Center in Cohasset, where his photographs are on display in the exhibit “Fiber of Life.” “You wouldn’t believe what comes out of the sand at night.”

Wolinsky adapted to the hammock and eventually shot the image that had brought him to a remote island off Panama, where the villagers did not welcome outsiders. It’s a stunning photograph of a Cuna woman, who stands regally on the lever of a sugar cane press, wearing a mola, a cotton blouse stitched with colorful geometric patterns.

“They have a mola for every day of the year and compete to look magnificent,” he said.

Wolinsky, of Norwell, has a gift for getting beyond barriers. It is seen in the riveting, color saturated photos taken over a 40-year career at National Geographic, where he produced photo essays organized around the culture of textiles.

“Textiles – just the word itself would put me to sleep,” Wolinsky said. “But I realized that cloth has the power to transform our vision of ourselves and each other. There is a natural human tendency to create beauty, and a single piece of clothing can be transformative.”

From Africa, India, China, Japan, Turkey, Panama, Papua New Guinea, and Tukmenistan, the photos make the viewer want to know the story and culture of the people who wear and make these fabrics. Each photo has a tale behind it, which Wolinsky told with humor and flair.

He recalled his surprise when the wife of a man he was visiting in India requested a portrait. She posed standing barefoot on stairs, with her hands clasped in front of her, wearing a full-length orange phurdah that completely covers her face. But the image makes perfect sense, when clothing is viewed as an expression of status and tradition.

“I asked if that was the way she wanted to be photographed,” Wolinsky said. “It was. There was this wonderful iridescent light and I said, ‘This is fabulous.’”

Like many artists, Wolinsky accidentally happened upon the subject that would inspire his career, when he was a young journalism graduate traveling in India and a carpet dealer took him to Bhadohi, a village of carpet weavers.

“I realized there was entire community built around weaving carpets,” he said. “It was colorful, exotic and wonderful. I realized I was seeing a culture in its purest form, weaving as they had been doing for a very long time.”

He pitched the concept of textiles many times before National Geographic finally accepted his proposal and set him free to travel and take pictures.

Most of the photos are of one or two individuals, looking directly into the camera or making their textiles.

“I learned that if you want to get published, photograph a face,” said Wolinsky, who used 35 millimeter film in a Nikon camera equipped with 12 lenses.

In photos of a Peruvian knitter, Chinese felt carpet maker, Indian cotton spinner, Wolinsky worked with low natural light, and the spaces of darkness and shadow add dignity and depth to the images.

One of the most colorful and fascinating photos shows a group of Moslem Indian women, huddled together, their hands raised to protect their faces, which are covered in veils splattered with sparkly purple and pink paint. Wolinsky shot the photo during a celebration where people throw colored paint on each other to commemorate an ancient love affair once marked by the throwing of colorful flower petals. To shoot the picture and protect his camera, he dressed in layers of veils.

In Morocco, Wolinsky was intrigued by two men in thick, long robes. They gave him permission to take their picture, but insisted he first come to their home for tea.

“We sat the whole afternoon drinking tea,” he said. “By the time they were ready, it was the very last light of the day, so I had to use a very long exposure.”

In order to get permission to photograph a funeral in Ghana, he had to nearly lie on the ground, because the village chief had to be higher than ordinary people. In the photos, a man sews funeral cloth and a woman points to bolts of beautiful fabric worn at funeral processions to express a mourner’s relationship to the deceased.

Before every photo essay, Wolinsky spent months researching. He gained an understanding that helped him connect with his translator guides and subjects, and appreciate what he was asking of them.

“You have to let people know that process can be an intrusion and it will take time,” he said. “You’re asking them for their souls.”

Wolinsky now is retired from National Geographic, and he and his wife, Barbara, run Trillium Studio, a photography, film and graphic design company, and are assisted by their son, Yari. He also co-founded in 2003 the Center for Digital Imaging Arts at Boston University, where he is consulting director.